✧ Interaction ╱ Naelys Velaryon - Blog Posts

dacey's thumb brushed faintly over the back of naelys' hands, tracing soft circles in a touch light as fallen leaves. it was the sort of calm she could not recall feeling in such a long time that settled now, the feeling that it was safe to breathe, and to be, was one that was entirely unfamiliar to her, something she could not remember ever carrying in her heart, but it was here now, as comforting as slipping into your own bed, warm and inviting, at the end of a trying day. there was the feeling that the two of them could remain here forever, undisturbed by time or pressure, and it would all be all right.

"i know what you mean," she agreed after a pause, her voice hushed as though fearing to disturb the peace, for she had long since learned such things were fragile. "new and familiar all at once." she had thought she knew what it was to know naelys, had built such a picture of her in her mind, constructed from words upon a page, but it paled in comparison to the real woman who had wrote them. it was different, but not worse - different in a way that was a welcome surprise.

"i think," she began, gaze drifting upwards to the boughs of the weirwood. "i have always found it easier to keep people at a distance. and our letters... that was a sort of distance, even as i told you all that was in my heart. i am not used to being known in person." she could not look at naelys as she spoke, but the entire time she did, the fingers that laced themselves with hers did not waver, holding on in a way that was steadfast. "i don't think i mind it," she said, after a pause. "not with you."

naelys' next words brought her eyes down from the trees, flicking to naelys' violet hues as though looking for the jest in her words. you have such a sweet face. "oh." her lips parted in a breath of surprise, and it was not that she was uncomfortable with the compliment, but that she could not recall anybody ever saying such things to her before. her cheeks had grown warm, and the hand that was not nestled in naelys' was pressed against dacey's own face, an attempt to conceal the flush that bloomed there even as a smile grew on her lips. "i - well, thank you." she let out a self-deprecating laugh. there was something disarming in the simplicity of the moment. it was not flattery for flattery's sake. it just was.

her gaze flickered for a breath too long, tracing the the subtle furrow in naelys' brow. how many letters had been exchanged between them now? too many to count, enough to line the distance between winterfell and king's landing and back again with the confidences they had swapped between them that had never been shared with another. it was enough to make something stir within her, a softness and certainty at once. "i am honoured to see you, naelys." she spoke the words with an utter sincerity. "and even when you don't see yourself what a gift that is to me, i see you still."

the smile was back upon her face, gentle and warm. "i don't doubt that," she said, and she didn't. "with our letters, we found each other even when we knew nothing more than the other's name. the gods willed this, mine and yours. they wanted us to find one another in this place. to stand here together." it was not often dacey spoke of her faith. in the religion of the old gods, prayers were done in silence. she held that close to her heart, a private, personal thing that was hers alone, but she did not mind sharing it with naelys now.

for a moment, she said nothing. an oath in the godswood was not a vow to be broken, not to a woman of the north, and naelys spoke hers with such conviction that it were obvious that she knew it, intent in every syllable. words carried power, but in that moment, dacey felt it immediately, as though the gods themselves had deigned to visit and bind them together in a way that could never be severed. she nodded, hand tightening around naelys' just a little.

"and i will never be lost to you," she murmured in return. "as the gods are my witness." her eyes searched naelys' face, memorising the way she looked under the canopy of the trees and dappled sunlight. it was almost cruel, that after this, they would go back to their letters, parted once more and left with only words, but it made the the importance of their promise matter all the more. "i swear it now, and the godswood will remember."

it was not until she felt the wetness on her cheeks that dacey realised she had began to shed tears. she was not a woman easily provoked to crying, had never once allowed herself to weep before another person, but she did here. "look at me," she let out a sigh that was half a laugh, before turning away, as though to hide her face from naelys, wiping at her face with her sleeve. "happy tears." she explained. "i'm just happy."

¿

the moment the princess of house stark had asked for naelys velaryon's hand, a quiet jingle of amethyst bracelets filled the air as her hand moved to slip into that of the princess. the agreement was wordless, said without a moment of hesitation; and yet, she did not even speak on it. the godswood stretched around them, vast and ancient, its leaves a sea of red and gold, rustling softly with a breeze that carried the faintest trace of the city beyond. “it is strange, isn’t it?” naelys began, her voice quiet, nearly swallowed by the rustle of leaves.

“to know someone so well... and yet not at all.” naelys velaryon stood beside dacey stark, her hand still lingering where it had been given. she had not expected the request—certainly not from a woman so cautious, so deliberate in the weight she added to the world.

but dacey’s grasp, firm yet tentative, felt grounding, like an anchor pulling her to the present. a small part of naelys could not help but wonder as to how lucky the stark sisters were to have dacey as their sister; how much she wished she could simply put her hand within her sisters as though they were merely babes in a cradle once again. "you have such a sweet face." she gave little explanation as to what she meant by her comment; only that in their discussion, naelys had always envisioned dacey to look older, more tired. and yet, there was a beauty of life that continued to bloom in her; as though her good nature reflected on her face.

naelys turned her vivid purple eyes to dacey, a slight furrow in her brow betraying her unease. it wasn’t the godswood, or the stillness, or even the woman beside her that unsettled her—it was the realness of it all. years of ink-stained words, thoughts bared and carried across leagues, had led to this moment. for so long, dacey had existed only in letters: a voice distant and safe, her confidant in a world that felt too often fraught with expectation. and now, here she was. solid. breathing.

she looked down, her hair slipping into her eyes. she made no move to brush it back this time, letting it obscure the flush she felt creeping along her cheeks. she paused, the stillness of the godswood settling in her bones. her hand in dacey’s was warm, and that small tether steadied her. “but i think you do know me. or—” she hesitated, looking up at dacey, her gaze softening—“at least, you see me in a way i’m not sure anyone else has. you always have. even when i did not have the courage to see myself.” after all, it had been dacey who had assured her that the north would be a welcome home for her, back when there were discussions of her joining house stark.

and for a moment, whilst looking at dacey's face, she had the quiet realisation she would have been happy. that all would have been okay; even if she did need to handle a great amount of change. her lips curved into the faintest smile, the weight of her own words surprising her. “and i would have found you, no matter where you prayed. no sept or godswood could have kept me from you had i heard you were here, dacey stark.” the smile lingered, but her gaze drifted to the towering trees above them, their branches reaching toward the heavens. “you’ve been my sanctuary,” she said softly, her voice carrying only to dacey’s ears. “and if your gods brought you to me, then perhaps they’ve shown me mercy too.”

she squeezed dacey’s hand, a gesture of quiet solidarity, before falling silent once more. the godswood seemed to echo their unspoken understanding, the whispers of its leaves carrying their truths to places only they could hear. naelys velaryon did not like change; it were as though she kept peeking back at dacey through the curtained thick waves of her hair as though to verify she were here. in the flesh, and they would be able to spend some time together - until they did not. until dacey needed to return to the north. the idea caused a quiet pang to ring out within naelys, who already found herself detesting the image that formed in her head. of watching dacey get into her carriage, and not knowing when they would see one another again.

she made a mental note to ask a maester how many leagues there were between driftmark and winterfell.

"i swear upon the old gods and the new, that you will never lose me." her words were solemn, taken in style of an oath; under the shades of the godstree, whilst her hand remained linked with daceys. the words seemed to tumble naturally from her mouth; how often had she seen oaths be made. how often had she watched the consequences as oaths were broken. not this one. "not now."

there was a peace to the godswood that dacey had not felt since they had passed the neck, and left the north, the leaves above whispered to one another, any trace of the city far removed from where the two found themselves. when she fell quiet, she thought she could still vaguely hear it - the sounds of chatter and life, carried on the wind, so faint that it may have been her imagination. and when she listened even harder, she was sure she could hear the faint, nervous thump of her own heartbeat.

"it's not," a wry sort of smile came over dacey's face. "the further we came from the north, the more i wanted to turn around and run back." it was never an option, not really. even if it had have been possible, dacey never would have asked for it, never would have made such a fuss that such an arrangement would be necessary. "i don't know how you did it. in braavos." there were some who thought little of travel, who found it within themselves to fly from their home like birds migrating from winter. she did not this that was naelys. and yet, she had done it, something dacey could not say for herself. "i think you're very brave for that."

that feeling of kinship only deepened as naelys continued to explain herself. how often had dacey bit her tongue, allowing her own thoughts and feelings to go unspoken because she was afraid of asking for too much, of taking space that wasn't hers to take? how often had she felt the urge to be seen, battling with the urge to go unnoticed. her gaze dropped to naelys' hands, restless and clasped together, and it was a gesture she recognised all too intimately. for a moment, dacey said nothing, standing in the quiet of the godswood with no sound but her own breath and the steady beat of her heart.

"may i take your hand for a moment?" the question was quiet, and she made no movement with her own to do so until naelys' response was given.

"i see you," dacey said, softly. "or at least... i think i do. and i think i see myself, too, if that makes sense. or at least, someone who understands me." she hesitated, as though the right words were shrouded to her, stuck somewhere behind the trees and between the leaves. "even when i can't quite explain myself. i feel as though you might know already."

dacey was a woman who moved through the world with caution, as though her mere presence would disrupt the very balance of it. it was smaller with naelys, as though she could breathe, as though she could add a little more of her own weight to the scales before they tipped. as though it was all right.

"i see you," she repeated, a little more confidently. "the parts that are quiet. the parts that are loud. and none of it is too much. it's just... right."

and she was glad to have been a comfort to naelys. it made her feel less selfish, that she had taken comfort from naelys, too, to know that she had been able to give a little back. "and you to me," she murmured. "more than you know." a soft laugh escaped her then, a small shake of her head that sent dark hair rippling in the afternoon breeze. "i know my gods are not yours, and i did not think to find them on the steps of a sept... but perhaps they were more present than i thought they could be in the city. they brought me to you."

¿

naelys walked beside dacey, feeling the weight of the years they had spent in letters and distant words now coming alive in the space between them. the cobblestones beneath their feet grew quieter as they neared the godswood, the rustling of trees above them blending with the soft rhythm of their steps. there was a tension in naelys, a quiet discomfort she couldn’t fully shake. her hands, clasped tightly in front of her, were an admission of that, an attempt to hold herself steady in a moment that felt almost too real.

dacey, half a step behind, seemed to mirror that same restraint. there was an understanding in it—something familiar, something shared.

"i understand," naelys said quietly, her voice carrying that familiar warmth, though there was a trace of uncertainty beneath it. "it's not easy, is it? to leave behind what’s familiar." her gaze shifted briefly to the horizon, the trees in the godswood standing tall like silent sentinels, and she wondered if dacey, too, saw the same thing—if, like her, the unknown had felt daunting at times. naelys had taken much courage to remain within braavos during those unstable, fearsome days; but she had made it through to the end. "i—" naelys took a breath, not expecting the weight of that assurance to settle so deeply within her. she hadn't realized how much she had carried with her—the fear that the person in her letters might not meet the person standing in front of dacey now.

"thank you," she said quietly, but the words felt like they didn’t quite capture the weight of what she felt.

"it's just," she continued, her hands tightening, "i never knew if i was...too much." it was a simple admission, but one that felt like it had been waiting in her chest for years. the letters had been easy, safe, but now standing in front of dacey, the fear of not living up to those words felt more real than ever. she found herself looking at dacey, the way her voice had softened as she spoke, the warmth in her words that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. "i think," naelys said after a long pause, "i've always wanted to be seen. truly seen, for who i am, not just the words i write or the persona i create." she smiled faintly, unsure if it was even the right thing to say, but trusting dacey enough to voice it anyway.

"and for some reason, i look at you and think...she sees me. do you get that too?"

"you’ve been a comfort to me, dacey," she continued, her words becoming more certain now, "even when you didn’t have to be. and i don’t think i’ll ever forget that." the truth of it felt like a weight lifted from her chest, something she had been carrying without even realising how much it meant to her. they were almost to the godswood now, the trees ahead standing like quiet sentinels, their leaves rustling gently in the wind. "i suppose," naelys said, her voice quieter now, "it’s strange, isn’t it? how we’ve come this far. from letters to here." she felt a warmth spread in her chest. "but i’m glad ever you went to the wrong place of prayer."

dacey's steps fell into line with naelys', half a pace behind as she followed. there was a careful way to the way the lady velaryon moved, a tension in her frame, the way her hands clasped as though to hold herself into place, that was all too familiar, like looking at a mirror of herself, and all the times she had tried to shrink herself in the background, unwilling to take up too much space. she longed to offer some reassurances, but her own nerves snared the words in her throat. the last thing she wanted to be was too much, too eager.

"neither did i," she admitted. "that is my own fault. it is only recently that i have felt..." she paused for a moment, trying to grasp for the right words. "comfortable enough to leave the north, i suppose." there was a world outside of winterfell, and dacey was like an infant, taking her first steps out into it. for naelys it was different, she knew. life had taken her across the seas, to braavos as well as these shores. dacey had wondered if her letters were boring, in comparison. "but i am glad that we have." she added.

naelys' next words came so quietly that they would have been easy to miss, but dacey did not. a frown crossed her face - not one of anger, or the disappointment that naelys spoke of, but of disbelief, and a denial that it was true. if anything, it was naelys that should be disappointed. dacey knew she did not cut much of a figure, mousy and quiet as she was. "you could never disappoint me, naelys." her voice was firm, but lost none of its warmth, its tenderness. "the thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

but the more she thought about it, the more she understood. was she not worried herself that in the flesh, she could not match up to words written on a page, those she had given thought to curating and ensuring they were perfect? that she had somehow deceived naelys by presenting a version of herself that she was not? or that the opposite was true, that she had shown her too much, allowed too much of herself to be seen, even the parts that were hard to like? "i know how much we shared in our letters. for me, it almost felt like bearing my soul to you. but you never judged me, and i never judged you. i don't think either of us are about to start now." she paused, as though waiting for naelys to confirm or deny it, to give her an opportunity to correct her if she was wrong.

there was a time where naelys could have been her sister. it wasn't to be, but the idea they had found some sort of sorority within one another regardless struck a deeper chord than dacey had expected. "i would have been honoured to call you a sister," it was a statement meant truthfully. "you have been there for me in a way that not many people have been, even when you did not have to be. i'll never forget that." was she gushing? it felt like she was gushing, being over-effusive. desperate.

they must have been nearing the godswood. the noise of the city was falling away, cobbled streets replaced by something nature had half-reclaimed. it was not quite the domain of the old gods, but it was closer to it. "it's funny. sometimes, when i went to pray, i'd find myself thinking about what i might say to you, the next time i sat down to write." now, naelys would be standing there beside her. it only felt right.

¿

naelys clasped her hands tightly in front of her, the silk of her sleeves cool against her skin. her heart was racing, every beat loud and frantic, echoing in her ears as she stood there. dacey stark. the woman she had known so intimately through letters but had never expected to meet in the flesh. and now here she was, tall and steady, with a presence that made naelys feel even smaller than usual. how many times had she thought of this moment? and yet, now that it was here, she found herself paralyzed, unsure of what to say or do.

her gaze flickered downward. her slippers felt rooted to the ground, her body caught between wanting to move closer and wanting to flee. she felt like glass, as she so often did—fragile, thin, ready to splinter at the slightest shift. she could feel the weight of her own awkwardness pressing down on her, threatening to smother her words before they even reached her lips.

“i…” her voice came out faint, almost swallowed by the sounds of the city around them. she tried again, forcing her tone to steady, though the effort made her throat tighten. “i didn’t think we would ever meet,” she managed at last, her hands twisting together. “it’s… strange. but good.” she glanced up briefly, then down again. “better than i imagined, though i hardly know what to do with myself now.”

she paused, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of dacey. it wasn’t just her height or the way she carried herself—confident but not unkind—it was the familiarity of her. naelys had poured so much of herself into those letters, her thoughts, her fears, her quiet joys, and now all of that felt exposed, like an open book standing in front of its author. “i hope i don’t disappoint you,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if dacey heard. her cheeks burned at the thought of how small her voice must have sounded.

“in person, i mean. i know i must seem…” she trailed off, unable to finish. fragile? weak? all the things people had always whispered about her? she didn’t want to know if dacey thought the same. her fingers fluttered toward her side, an aborted motion she wasn’t even sure she intended. “we could walk,” she said, quieter still, her voice barely more than a breath. “to the godswood. if you like. it’s quiet there. i think i would… like that. and you can pray.” she dared a glance toward dacey again, her heart still hammering against her ribs.

she began to move before she could think better of it, her steps cautious but deliberate. the air felt thinner now, and she was painfully aware of every breath she took. her hands trembled slightly at her sides, though she tried to still them by clasping them once more. “you… were a friend to me. almost a sister, really.” she said softly, the words coming unbidden as she referred to the time where it was once thought the glass seahorse would be sent north to wed adam stark. but such a thought filled her with such dread, such loneliness - even if they were the most approachable and warm people she had ever met.

“when i needed one most. i wanted you to know that.” her throat tightened, but this time it wasn’t with nerves. “thank you.”

"oh," it was an offer dacey very much wanted to accept, and yet, something held her back from a simple yes. "only if it is not any trouble. i'd hate to take you away from something important." her eyes slid to the door of the sept. clearly, the woman had come here for prayers of her own, but perhaps she needed to step away from this place as much as dacey did. "but if it isn't inconvenient, i'd like that very much." the old gods might not be the way of this new valyria, but perhaps the woman might find a balm for her sorrows in its quiet, its peace, as dacey often did herself.

she had not thought to find kindness in a place like this, in a city like this. dacey was not someone who was quick to befriend others, nor find comfort in them, but she supposed that made it all the more beautiful to find it in a place she did not think to look, in the most unlikely of places. there was something about this woman, and perhaps it was simply because she could see herself in her. a more tearful version perhaps, for it was rare that dacey shed them, but the emotions were the same, the overwhelming feeling of it all, the self-consciousness.

and then, she fell out of place beside dacey, coming to a halt in the middle of the street. dacey turned to face her then, and when she saw the recognition in her face, she almost felt disappointed. she might have been the most absent of the starks, but with her title came a recognition of her name that she had never felt comfortable with. it was there her mind went first - that the woman had identified her as one of the princesses of the north, and that was what had startled her so.

"oh, no, please..." she began, quickly, wanting to assure her that there was no need to stand on formalities, but then came the half-whisper of her name. dacey. her name, not her title, and it spoke of familiarity where it should not have existed. she was sure they had never met, but why did it seem otherwise?

i've written to you. in an instant, the confusion cleared from dacey's expression, replaced with a recognition of her own, of understanding. she recalled words on a page, the thud of anticipation when a letter arrived, graceful handwriting and flowers drawn in margins. here was her ink and paper friend, a woman who had existed only through words, now made flesh and blood.

"i..." she began, her voice soft and uncertain. the din of the city seemed to have silenced. all there was, was two women, who knew each other so intimately, and yet not at all. "but of course you are. you're naelys."

for a moment, dacey did not want to do. the correspondence between the two had been a source of solace during the best and worst of times, a safe place in which to confide the doubts of her heart that she spoke to nobody else. her hands twitched, as though to reach out, but she stopped herself, instead clasping them together.

"thank me? oh, no, thank you." her own cheeks coloured faintly pink. "your letters were - you were - a friend when i needed it the most. i don't know that i can put into words how grateful i am for them." perhaps not verbally, at least. it was almost laughable how her first instinct to metting naelys in the flesh was to write to her about it in a letter.

"and now you are here," a tentative smile broke through her expression. "when i thought about what it might be like to meet you, it was not... like this." she briefly released her right hand from the grip of her left, and gestured to the city around them. "shall we continue to the godswood? it might be easier to talk where it is quieter."

¿

naelys’ breath felt shallow as she lingered on the steps, the heavy air of king’s landing pressing down on her. the woman’s voice had been soft, a kind of balm against the clamor in her mind, but the words themselves barely registered at first. it was the tone that drew her—the quiet understanding, the gentleness of someone who knew what it was to carry the weight of an unwelcome world.

she clung to that tone as she focused on her breathing, her fingers restlessly tracing the silver lace of her corset. her mind wandered to the past, to the long evenings spent writing letters by candlelight, pouring her heart out to someone who existed only in words. that correspondence had been her anchor. how strange, then, to feel a similar warmth in the presence of a stranger.

the mention of the godswood stirred her from her thoughts. perhaps this is a chance, she thought, to offer some comfort, even if i can hardly find it for myself. her voice was quiet when she spoke, almost tentative. “if you’d like… i could walk you to the godswood. it’s peaceful there—quieter. you deserve a place to pray that feels right.” she wasn’t sure why she offered. perhaps it was the familiarity she sensed in the woman, though naelys couldn’t place it. it wasn’t her face—she was certain they’d never met. but the way she carried herself, the gentle self-deprecation in her tone, felt like a note struck in harmony with her own being.

as they began to walk, naelys listened to the woman speak of the north. the descriptions painted vivid images in her mind—stark landscapes, fierce wolves, ancient trees. it sounded so unlike the gilded, suffocating halls of king’s landing. she felt a pang of longing, not for the north itself, but for the sense of freedom the woman seemed to describe, a freedom naelys had never known. when the woman mentioned winterfell, something shifted. the word felt heavy, like a stone dropped into still water, rippling outward.

winterfell. her mind darted to her letters, to the friend who had shared fragments of that very place with her. her heart began to race, her thoughts scrambling to piece together what now seemed so obvious.

naelys stopped mid-step, her fingers tightening against the lace of her corset as she turned to face the woman. “winterfell?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “you’re... you’re not—?” naelys’ breath hitched, and for a moment, she could only stare. her voice trembled as she spoke, barely able to contain the flood of emotions surging within her. don't cry, don't cry more. don't be foolish. “dacey,” she whispered. “it’s you. oh, gods. i... i’ve written to you for years, and now...”

for some reason, she bowed her head. people usually introduced themselves properly when meeting in person? "hello...i am lady naelys velaryon, your highness." naelys felt her cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability taking hold of her. she swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet dacey’s gaze. the words spilled out unbidden, her voice tinged with disbelief and wonder. “you don’t know how much your letters meant to me. they were—” she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. “thank you for them."

dacey did not consider herself an intelligent woman. she was not particularly learned, nor did she possess a vast amount of political acumen, but what she did have was the ability to see beyond what was said, and find meaning in what was not. even if the tears had not quite yet dried upon her cheeks, she thought that she might have recognised it in the woman before her.

there was a specific look that painted itself on the faces of those who were trying to hold themselves together, clinging to frayed edges in the hope that they would not unravel. she had seen it in her own reflection - the look in the eyes that betrayed thoughts that were elsewhere, the way her voice took on a certain tone, like a song in a wine glass, despite her assurances that all was well. something stirred within her, a quiet urgency to offer whatever comfort she could, but it would be an intrusion to press the matter further. and so, instead of lingering in the unsaid, dacey focused her attention on what was. "i know what you mean," her voice was soft, audible over the din of king's landing to naelys only. "sometimes, when i'm in a crowded place, it's like the walls are pressing in." a flicker of a smile crossed her face then, a private moment of understanding. it would seem such a silly thing to someone who had not experienced it themselves - but dacey had. she knew all too well how suffocating it could be.

"oh," her gaze turned to the door of the step, as though she were looking upon a foreign beast, uncertain whether or not it would snap at her or leave her be. "no, mine are the old gods." it was not that she had quarrel with those who followed the faith of the seven, the divisions that had drawn lines in the northern court more a source of anxiety than something she wished to involve herself in, but it all seemed so unfamiliar to her. even standing here made her feel out of place. "i wanted to visit the godswood, but i'm afraid my attendant misunderstood, and i haven't got the heart to tell them otherwise." her smile turned rueful, hands clasping together in front of her skirts as one thumb scratched at the other. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but i thought i would just... wait for him to come back."

her cheeks burned, embarrassment for admitting her own ineptitude, and a touch of guilt. the woman had sought solace, and dacey was intruding on it. and yet, there was something that dacey could not put her finger on keeping her tied to the conversation, as though they knew one another, and were not strangers, standing on the steps of the sept.

"have you been away for long?" her query was gentle. "it must be difficult to expect to return to something familiar, and find that it isn't." dacey had only ever really known winterfell, excursions away from the place she had made her sanctuary few and far between, but with jon's death, even the ancient walls of her home felt different.

"i'm just visiting - my family and i - for the coronation. from the north. from winterfell."

¿

naelys' breath hitched as she exited the sept, her mind a swirling tempest of grief and confusion. the familiar sting of tears blurred her vision as she almost collided with the woman standing just outside. she hardly registered the words spoken to her, her mind too engrossed in the most hazy of memories and the overwhelming presence of king’s landing—a city that no longer felt like home. had it ever?

she still remembered the day those mighty doors swung open, and they had entered - the day rhaenyra had married.

hues of amethyst, still hazy with pools that appeared as still as a deceptively deep lake, finally focused on the concerned face before her. there was something oddly comforting about the woman’s sheepish yet empathetic expression. "oh, no, thank you. i'm... i'll be all right," naelys managed to say, her voice fragile, like glass on the verge of shattering. she wiped her eyes, though the action felt futile; for they would stain her cheeks red, and each stain felt like a hiss upon her skin.

the woman’s kindness tugged at something deep within naelys, a part of her that longed for connection amidst the overwhelming solitude of her grief. something akin to her words reminded her of the way her mother would look upon her, would try to check on her and encourage. it reminded her of what she no longer had, what her older sister would never be able to provide. “i appreciate your concern, truly,” she continued, a bit more steady now. “i was just...there were many people in that room."

naelys took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. her gaze lingered on the woman’s face, sensing an understanding there. she felt like a warm beacon, like some sort of candle; she could not help but naturally turn toward her, like a sunflower turns to the rays of the sun. “may i ask... what brings you to the sept? you don’t seem...,” she hesitated, trying to find the right words, “you don’t seem entirely at ease here. have you been standing all these hours?” she sniffed slightly, no doubt appearing pathetic.

she took a step back, giving herself and the woman a bit more space, and so she took to fiddling with the silver lace on her corset. “i’ve just returned to king’s landing and...this city is very different." naelys felt a strange mix of awkwardness and comfort in the presence of this stranger. there was an unspoken bond, a shared sense of displacement that made her feel a little less alone. “and you? are you new to the city as well?” she asked, genuinely curious about the woman who had unknowingly offered her a brief reprieve from her inner turmoil.

perhaps, in this moment of shared vulnerability, they could both find some solace. even if only for a fleeting moment.

outside the sept, dacey lingered, internally cursing herself for even ending up here in the first place. it could all have been avoided had she just opened her mouth, had not feared embarrassing her attendant and said nothing, instead meekly exiting the carriage when they had brought her here. they had been all too eager to help when she had mentioned wanting to pray that morning, assuring her they would take her where she needed to go, but instead of the godswood, they had brought her here, to a sept she had no place stepping foot in. hers were the nameless gods of the trees and wind and water, but such a thought did not seem to cross the mind of those native to king's landing.

there was nothing for it but to wait for the carriage to return. it would surely do so when the service had finished, only, dacey had no idea exactly how long these sermons could be. how long did septons speak for? what was there even to speak about? it seemed such a complicated way to worship, convoluted by song and scripture when compared to the silent, simple way of prayer she was used to. she were far too timid to use this time to explore the city, and so remaining awkwardly hovering on the steps was her only option.

the door opened, and dacey's head turned, relief flooding her that it was finally over - only it wasn't. it was not a crowd of worshippers who flooded through them, but a single woman. dacey knew that she should look away, but as was always the case when there was something you knew you should not look at, she could not stop her gaze drifting back to the woman.

and the woman noticed. when she spoke, dacey turned her attention to her fully, her expression part-sheepish, and part-apologetic. "oh, no, no, that's very kind..." she began, promptly breaking off when she got a proper look at her face. her heart immediately softened. even if there were not shining tracks on her cheeks where she had failed to completely swipe them away, dacey would have recognised the expression on her face immediately, the look of someone desperately trying to hold it together when the walls were caving in.

"i'm sorry, i know it is not my business," and it wasn't. she had clearly exited the sept to find solace in the solitary, did not need dacey prying into matters that had clearly stirred something emotional within her, and yet, dacey could not help herself. empathy stirred within her. she did not know this woman, but neither would she leave her to suffer, alone and in silence. "but are you all right? silly question," she immediately chastised herself. "but can i get anything for you? some water?"

who: @daceystvrk when and where: semi-flashback to the gathering in kings landing, naelys finally meets her years long penpal...all by chance. context: despite once being betrothed to adam, nellie and dacey never had the opportunity to meet. until now.

there were far more seven pointed stars adorned across the majestic, rebuilt halls of the red keep; though what surprised her more was the fact that influence had also spread beyond the halls of the keep and into the streets of the capital. she had been perched upon the velvet recliner beside the stained glass within the velaryon apartments; and when she saw a procession in the distance she was surprised to find it a collection of followers of the faith, adorned in robes of white and with chains and maces in their hands.

they seemed to be whipping themselves, and it was all she could think of as she clutched her hands together in this grand sept, standing side by side with members of her family and her court. why would these people do such harm to themselves, and for what purpose?

the septon seemed to continue to hurl down word after word, and for a while she was managing to ignore it and focus on the vividness of the colours on the glass. that was until the nature of the words thrown from the pulpit began to change, and it were words referring to the sins of lust and fornication that caught her attention. not like a hook, but rather like the feeling of a hand gripping her neck and forcing her to look. and suddenly she found herself listening, half aware that most of the sept would believe the septon was alluding to the oldest of the velaryon sisters - and even that naelys found inherently cruel. it felt as though they were standing, and there was a flame directly over them.

and he felt like he could see right through her, and see the memories of her braavosi perfume and her purple bedsheets. and his eyes, or the sound of her laugh mixing with his own.

she quietly muttered something about excusing herself and finding there were too many people, all but pushing by vhaenessa and deimos as she kept her hands clasped together as she walked; the doors seemed as though they were moving further and further away, and the walls were collapsing in. people knew naelys struggled with packed places and loud noises, or at least she prayed they did. she picked up her pace and let the door slam behind her, not knowing if any saw the slight tears that were sprung to her amethyst eyes.

they were not subtle, they were pools that swum, and threatened to finally fall. and fall they did as she let it in a short inhale of air, wiping her cheeks with the back of her sleeve.

it was not until she turned around and saw another dark haired figure standing outside did she realise she was not alone in standing outside of the sept doors. she momentarily froze, wiping her cheeks one more time in defeat. the lady had seen her. "are you waiting for somebody?" naelys asked, still feeling some wetness on her cheeks as she remained fixed in place. she did not know what to say. "i can go back in and get them for you."